


Meanwhile In The TARDIS...

by whovianmuse



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV), Torchwood
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-30
Updated: 2012-08-30
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:25:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/499985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whovianmuse/pseuds/whovianmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Co-written with <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lythnia">Lythnia</a></p><p>By some wibbly wobbly timey wimey twist of fate, the Eleventh Doctor, the Tenth Doctor (Human), Amelia Pond, Rose Tyler, River Song, and Captain Jack Harkness all end up in the TARDIS together at the same time. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson accidentally pop by as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meanwhile In The TARDIS...

          He couldn’t remember much before the crash. Images flickered across his mind like candlelight. Amy, arms crossed, wearing a perfectly heart-clenching pout, moaning on about wanting to see another planet, to meet new and interesting people, never completely satisfied unless their days ended with running for their lives or…well, covered in whale sick. He was growing more irritated with her by the second. He especially wished she would stop asking about his past companions, and cease her obvious hints that he take her to visit them. Why couldn’t she let him put the painful past behind him? _She_ was his companion now, wasn’t that good enough?

          Apparently, to Amy, nothing ever was. She was never content unless there was magic happening around her at every moment. She thrived on adventure, adored a challenge. She’d chosen to run away with a madman in a blue box the night before her wedding, after all. She’d even broken it off with her fiancé so that she could remain the Doctor’s companion. In a way, she’d chosen the Doctor over a normal life, and for such a sacrifice, he should be grateful. Sometimes, he thought, they were perfectly suited for one another, but that was a secret he’d hold with him to the grave, and if he was lucky, he’d never have to reach that point. Immortality was such a blessing, even if he did have to lose his face in exchange.

          The Doctor raised his head, his mind buzzing, and shook his disheveled hair out of his eyes. Alright, so he had eyes. So, they were alive. Allowing his eyes to adjust to his surroundings, he searched his memories for more specific information. They were arguing. Amy was relentless, of course. She’d tried to shut him up by placing one hand over his mouth, using the other to tie his hands behind his back, and pushed him hard up against the console. But of course, he’d broken free and grabbed her by her waist, prepared to tickle her into a fit of giggles, and then…nothing. Plunged into darkness. Unbelievably warm. Sticky. Humid.

          He lay against a very hard, flat surface, on his back. Finally, his vision became clearer, pupils still dilated, and he thought he might actually recognize where they were. He allowed his muscles to ease, relaxing immediately as he focused on the lights swirling above him, violet and cerulean and pale pink circling around the room like smoke. The distant splashes and ripples as waves crashed into one another filled his mind, and he smiled, admiring the way the TARDIS had transformed the swimming pool into a makeshift ocean, because Amy had mentioned how much she missed the beach.

          He didn’t feel the need to move, content on letting his senses explore his surroundings, since he was quite sure that they were safe. His nose was greeted with mild chlorine and the familiar scent of old, cherished novels waiting patiently in their racks along the sides of the swimming pool. Not the cleverest idea, placing his beloved collection of books right near water, but the old girl has her reasons, and he had learned not to argue.

          He felt relaxed, and perfectly at ease. He felt…skin. Soft as crème silk, entwined with his, melting into him. Slowly, he brought his eyes to his left, discovering that his hand had been joined with another’s. A curious, pale, freckled hand, fingernails painted scarlet and perfectly filed. A smiling face, blushing furiously, nearly blending in with fiery red curls.

          He couldn’t help but grin back magnificently, with complete disregard for composure, and wondered idly how their hands had become intertwined. He pursed his lips, searching for the appropriate words, staring into Amy’s eyes, brilliant like malachite, when—

          “Hello, Sweetie.”

          The Doctor whipped his head up so fast that he nearly sent himself into unconsciousness again, and a loud “Ow,” told him that Amy’s arm had been jerked painfully up with him. She aimed to smack him on the chest when her hand fell slack and her lips twisted up into a smile as she recognized the familiar blonde.

          “I...River? What are you…? When did you get here?” He paused, utterly out of words. There was something very, very quite not correct. Something different, something...missing.

          “Oh, I just popped off to check the coordinates. We’re in the middle of the Time Vortex, and it doesn’t look like she’s got any plans to let us go. So, we’re trapped here, for the time being. Bloody shocked as to how she got everyone here...but then, our girl does like a bit of fun. Do you remember the time she— honestly Doctor, what do you think you’re doing?”

          While River had been rattling off her explanation, looking as secretive and self-satisfied as a cat who’d just feasted on a fat canary, the Doctor had made his way over to her, gently patting Amy on the head and swaggering a bit in his awkward height. After looking River up and down, as though trying to determine whether or not she was a figment of his imagination, he began circling her in a way that reminded her just how foreign the term “personal space” was to him. By the time River noticed, he’d already proceeded to whip out his sonic screwdriver and was poking and scanning her with it. It was quite distracting.

          “That’s all well and good, but the more pressing question is...where are your pants?” He asked quietly, almost afraid to admit to what he’d seen, and prodded the sonic down between her bare legs. The questions began racing in his head, most of them irrational, some of them impolite and completely inappropriate, some of them involving Amy. He shook his head, trying to force the images out of his brain, and blinked several times, hoping that River might disappear in the process. Nope. Still here. Still not wearing any pants. As though she could hear his train of thought, River winked, and he found himself thinking up ways to get her to leave, when a playfully snarky tone chimed from behind him, making his head whip around so fast that it nearly gave him whiplash.

          “Two Doctors? I cannot tell you what I’m thinking right now.”

          He hadn’t yet heard that familiar voice with these ears, but that level of arrogance and self-satisfied assurance was unmistakable. It could only mean trouble. Of course, anyone who doubted that need only take one look at Captain Jack Harkness’s mischievous eyes, his impossibly charming smile, his devilishly good looks. Not to mention, the pair of trousers dangling off his shoulder. His eyes roved between Jack’s smug expression and River’s bare legs. He forced the horrifying thought from his mind immediately, because there was something more pressing at the moment, something even more odd than the sudden appearance of Jack Harkness and River Song that the Doctor wanted explained.

          “Not that I’m not pleased to see you again, Jack, but last I checked there was only the one of me.” He began patting himself down experimentally, muttering to himself, “Legs, yes. Arms, good. Face, hair, bow tie...cool. No, definitely just the one of me. So, could you kindly explain to me what you mean by ‘two doctors,’ or shall I just put it down to some new form of 51st Century alcohol?” The Doctor asked, chuckling at his own joke.

          “Well Doctor, since I was careless enough to let the opportunity slip by the last time I had two of you at my disposal... _Doctor_ , would you care to explain?” Jack smirked.

          “Explain what? I’ve just asked you to—“ The Doctor started, before he was cut short by the sound of someone behind Jack clearing their throat. An untidy mop of brown hair popped up from behind Jack, quickly followed by a freckled, narrow face attached to a slim body, dressed in a brown pin-striped suit and tattered beige trainers that he’d seen at least one thousand times before. By this point, he’d begun to assume that he had, in fact, finally cracked, and everyone in the room was a hallucination.

          “Doctor, who is that?” Amy whispered, suddenly by his side and clinging almost fearfully to his arm. He paused for a moment, his eyes scanning the man in front of him.

          “Well, _I think_ it’s me. Old me. _Human_ me, in fact. From the past,” he said.

          “ _What_? How?” She asked incredulously, her eyes wide.

          “Well, you see, there was a hand. _My_ hand, in fact, got chopped off in battle, and then it grew back, obviously. Jack kept the hand in a jar, for some reason— and then it was the end of the world, but I wasn’t there, and the TARDIS needed me, and so she made the hand into another _me_ , a human clone of myself, you see, and...it’s all very complicated,” he finished lamely, eyeing up his old body. The height difference was astonishing. He definitely preferred a much more classic style now. His hair was still unruly. He would still disappear if he turned sideways, but the mad rambling, he was glad to see, had only intensified in his last regeneration.

          “Hello, you! So that’s the new look then, is it? Bowties now. Interesting. Never used to be one for bowties, but then again, they didn’t exactly work on this body. Preferred ties. Oh, and you’ve got boots now! That’s lovely. Used to kick around in trainers all the time, did let in quite a draft, if you’ll remember. And the jacket...are those suede elbow patches? That’s a nicer touch, I look a bit professory now. Oh, and you’ve brought along a new one. A ginger! Of course she’s ginger. Haven’t had a ginger companion since Donna. Does this one chatter all the time and order you around like you’re her dog toy, too? Is that just a thing with gingers? Shall I shut up now?”

          “Yes, love, I think that’s quite enough,” a voice spoke gently from behind the human Doctor, who smiled in a way that suggested he was thoroughly amused by all of this.

          “So that’s you, is it? Future you, I mean. This _is_ all a bit complicated, isn’t it?”

 _Rose._ Of course it was Rose. Naturally, he should have expected her to be here, since his human counterpart was, but it was still a bit surprising. He braced himself for the nervous pang that would undoubtedly arise in his chest, but it never came. Even as she stood there, all smiling and blonde and still just as bloody gorgeous as the day he’d had to leave her. Rose. His Rose. He didn’t think he would ever see her again.

          It was like stepping into a dream. It was a part of his past he’d sought to keep buried, uprooted and standing right in front of him. She was real. He could touch her, if he wanted to. But for some reason, he simply couldn’t find the drive. This was the woman he’d fallen in love with, but the sudden, wonderful, yet heartbreaking realization hit him. His hearts no longer beat for her alone. He would always love her, but never in the same way that he used to. Now, she was just a fond memory tacked to the back of his brain. A nice dream.

          Rose stared him up and down, taking in the brand new effects of his latest regeneration. It was odd to be on the receiving end of an inspection, and he half expected her to take out a sonic and probe him with it. Luckily, she didn’t. He pursed his lips, on the brink of something incredibly witty and friendly to say to her, when he was interrupted.

          “Well, hello there. Captain Jack Harkness,” a smooth voice echoed from behind him, pulling him swiftly out of reverie. He turned to find Jack saddled right next to Amy, his arm snaking its way around her waist.

          “Stop that,” both Doctors shouted at the same time, and Jack quickly dropped his act, raising his hands in the air like he was a child who’d just been caught stealing candy.

          “What? I was just saying hello,” he said, his voice coated with insincerity.

          “For you, that’s flirting,” the human Doctor said. Amy giggled at Jack’s side.

          “And Amy, you’re not helping,” the Doctor added.

          “Doctor,” Amy called crossly from his side. He and his human clone both turned in response, warranting a flustered look from both Amy and Rose.

          “Oh, right. That’s going to be a problem, isn’t it? Right, well, we’ll need to assign you a new name,” The Doctor announced, turning on the spot to face his human clone.

          “Me? _I’ve_ got to have a new name? Oh, but I like being called the Doctor,” he whined.

          “But you’re human, you’re _past_ me. You get to live the normal, happy, mortal, I’ve-only-got-one-heart-now life. You’re done. _I’m_ the Doctor, the Oncoming Storm,” he stopped short, feeling Amy’s disapproving glare on the back of his head as he said pointedly and with no nonsense, establishing his status within the room, “Live. With. It.”

          The human Doctor hung his head in defeat, turned toward Rose, and said, “Fine then, what shall I be called?” Rose whispered something into his ear, attempting to wipe the sulk off of his face. He looked, for all the world, like someone had taken his favorite cookie. He giggled slightly at her suggestion and mumbled, “Rose, no, we only call each other that when we’re— right, sorry. Room full of people.”

          His face flushed bright red. Everyone in the room had gone silent.

          “Well,” said the Doctor, clapping his hands together, “there’s only one dignified way to do this. We’re going to take a vote!”

          “We’re not voting on my name,” the human Doctor protested.

          “Oh, shut up, never mind. It’s happening. Amy, what’s your vote?”

          The human Doctor sighed and flung his hands in the air, wondering vaguely what the point was in arguing with himself.

          “Hmm,” Amy said, circling the human Doctor. She turned to look him in the eyes and said, quite simply, “Benedict.” Both Doctors cringed in protest.

          “No, no, no, no. What about David? You look like a David,” the Doctor said.

          “Absolutely not. Definitely not David. Had a bad experience with a David, that one time, when we visited Scotland for a holiday…but how about—?”

          “Oh! I’ve got it! Brace yourselves...Richard,” Jack said, sporting a triumphant look.

          “Er...no. I’ll not have you calling me Dick, thanks all the same.”

          Jack looked crestfallen.

          “Love, how about Jeff? We don’t know anyone named Jeff,” Rose suggested. The Doctor and Amy exchanged looks, and broke out into a fit of giggles.

          “I don’t want to be called Jeff. Can’t I be called Alonso?” He asked, bouncing slightly.

          “Oh! Then I can say, ‘Allons-y, Alonso!’” The Doctor shouted, looking thrilled.

          “NO!” He turned round to see everyone except for the human Doctor glaring at him, arms crossed with firm affirmation that he would not, in fact, be getting his way today.

          “Oh, fine. You lot are so boring,” The Doctor said, and then thought on a bit.

          “I’ve got it. You’re the old me, the tenth regeneration, in fact. We can simply call you Ten, if you’d like,” he said. The human Doctor thought on it for a moment, still sulking over everyone’s rejection of Alonso.

          “Yes, yes, alright, I’ll be Ten,” the human Doctor sighed and rolled his eyes, looking thoroughly disappointed, but glad at least that his rechristening was over.

          “So, Doctor, Ten _,_ how about we kick up this little get-together? Now, I know that we’re all confused and frightened, because we don’t know how we all got here. But the TARDIS is tricky. You never know what the old girl might get up to. I say, we shake this opportunity for all it’s worth,” Jack finished, smiling brilliantly, hands help up like he’d just finished a solo on Broadway.

          “Well, that could be fun,” Amy said, arms behind her back and sidling closer to the Doctor. He knew that if he even _tried_ to protest, one pout from Amy’s perfect, pink lips would push him over.

          “Yes, alright, why not? We’re all stuck here, aren’t we? Might as well make the best of it,” the Doctor said. Jack clapped his hands enthusiastically, practically skipped over to the side of a massive bookshelf and dipped his hand behind one of the books, pulling it out swiftly. The result was a revolving shift in the wall, swallowing the bookcase and replacing it with a slick silver counter, complete with an array of shelves, filled with various kinds of brightly colored liquid. Jack bent down to observe the collection, smiling enthusiastically and pulling a few of the bottles off of the shelves. Another quick dip down behind the counter, and he’d grabbed six decorated glasses, placing them with a delicate _ting_ on the aluminum surface.

          “In all the years I’ve had the TARDIS, I’ve never known about this. Jack traipses in and almost instantaneously finds the entire store of liquor, hidden behind a bookcase in the library!” Ten’s hands were stretched out dramatically, completely bewildered.

          “Yeah, sorry about that. Finally discovered it right after I dropped you off with…right, well, TARDIS thought I’d need a bit of a pick-me-up. Course, then she hid it on me again when I crashed her into Amy’s shed. Still sorry about that, Pond. Should never have had so much. This body can’t really handle it, you see. Been quite a relief though, not having it. Wouldn’t have wanted Amy digging into my liquor stock, after all. Though,” the Doctor said, pausing to tap his chin with the edge of his fingers, “Jack having access isn’t much better.”

          “Oh, come on, Doctor, it’s begging to be put to use. Amy, what will you have?” Jack asked, throwing on the charm.

          “No, no, no, no. You’re not getting my Amy drunk,” the Doctor said firmly.

          “ _Your_ Amy? Captain Jack, I will have a _very_ tall glass of strawberry rum, please,” Amy said, scooting closer to where Jack was standing, nearly hanging on his shoulder.

          “Absolutely not. _Amy_ ,” he warned, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

          “Coming right up. How about we make that a mojito?” Jack asked, pouring a generous amount of rum into her glass and sprinkling the top with mint sprigs.

          “Ohh, very exotic,” Amy said. The Doctor huffed and turned on the spot.

          “Fine then, everyone, have at my liquor. I’m not going to use it,” he grumbled.

          “Oh, Doctor, come on, you’ve got to have one drink with us. _Please_ ,” she added, pulling her infamous pout. He stared at her lips for a moment, and then shook his head.

          “No, someone’s got to look after all of you. Make sure you don’t do anything stupid,” he said, but his voice was drowned out by the excited chatter from the rest of the group, gathering round to watch Jack whip up their drinks. One by one, they all returned, taking seats along the edge of the swimming pool, each with massive decorated glasses in hand.

          The Doctor sat hugging his knees, far from the rest of the group, when Amy curled up next to him, her glass nearly as large as her head, filled to the top with pale pink liquid mixed with strawberry seeds and mint sprigs.

          “Someone’s Mr. Grumpy face today,” she said, smiling and nudging his shoulder with her own in an attempt to make him smile.

          “Come on, then,” she said seriously, “Look around. These are your friends. They came. Not, of course, of their own accord, but no one seems upset about it. The TARDIS brought all of us together for a reason.” She snaked her hand to lock with his, and he stared at her for a moment, before a smile found its way to his lips.

          “This is beyond bonkerdom,” he answered.

          “Quite right.”

          “Alright, Pond. I’ll take that drink.”

          “Gotcha. What’ll you have?”

          “I’m feeling experimental. Sex on the Beach, with extra schnapps, please. And tell Jack that’s all. I’ll not have him spiking my drink…again.”

          Amy nodded and giggled, prancing over to Jack with a triumphant look on her face. She wins this round.

          Everyone gathered around the edge of the swimming pool, laughing and reminiscing, shaking hands and grasping one another into tight hugs. Ten and Rose sipped their Mimosas, exchanging kisses of adoration, while Jack and River mingled by the bar. Amy’s half-empty glass rested behind her back, her bare feet splashing in the warm water, ruffled skirt hiked up on her thighs, fingers tangling in the vapors rising up from the water. The Doctor couldn’t help but smile at her, taking tiny sips from his own glass, his confusion and concern ebbing and flowing from time to time, but mostly, he tried to enjoy these random turn of events.

          “I met Rose,” Amy said, subsiding her playful kicks and turning to face him. When he didn’t respond, she continued, “She’s actually quite lovely. We got on really well. I don’t think she hates me, at least…”

          “Amy, that’s impossible,” he said, his gaze fixed on the rippling water.

          “For Rose to hate me, or for Rose to hate anyone?”

          “Both, I suppose, although I was leaning toward the first one,” he mumbled.

          “You are fond of me, then, aren’t you? Sometimes,” she said, biting her lip.

          “Oh. No, of course not. You’re rubbish. Not funny at all. Not heart-wrenchingly gorgeous, either, and do you know what else? You’re a terrible dresser,” he finished, adjusting his bowtie for emphasis. Amy aimed a swift kick at him, nearly dousing him in water, but he ducked and grabbed for her hands, holding them quite still in his own.

          “You think I’m gorgeous,” she whispered. The Doctor smiled, and found her eyes gazing back into his, fixated, unblinking. He let out a small chuckle and turned away, tracing patterns on the palm of her hand with his fingertips. Amy sighed and rolled her eyes.

          “We talked about you, of course,” she said.

          “Oh? What did you say, exactly? More to the point, what did she tell you?” he asked.

          “Oh, nothing really. We just…made comparisons between you two. Do you still do that thing where you…” she trailed off and attempted to mime with her hands, which involved a lot of flailing and lolling her tongue out of her mouth. She looked utterly, utterly senseless, and he hoped to God that he didn’t look like that, whatever past quirk of his she was attempting to illustrate. Amy ended up in a fit of giggles in his arms, and he felt himself smiling brighter than he had since he’d first woken up in this strange, blissful mess.

          Eventually, they wandered over to where Ten and Rose sat, exchanging stories of their recent travels, how they’d escaped an army of Weeping Angels, and had been plunged into the mouth of a star whale on Starship U. K. Rose and Ten described their wedding, and the charming story of how Jackie had gone into labor during the reception.

          He kept waiting for the realization that he was essentially talking to himself and his past love to kick in, and for the strange sensation that would no doubt follow, but instead he felt content, and quite at ease. It felt wonderful, in fact, to see them again. He didn’t imagine that he would ever again be given the chance.

          Captain Jack meandered over to the edge of the pool, hands placed on his hips in a no-nonsense fashion, a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s clasped in his right hand.

          “Well, ladies and gents, since we’re all here and I seem to be the only one in this group who knows how to throw a proper party…” He ignored Amy’s little look of mock-offense at the comment, and said, “I have an idea.”

          “And what sort of idea might that be?” River asked, a coy smile playing on her lips.

          “I was thinking that, since this is a party, we could try a party game…of sorts.”

          “Games? I love games!” said Amy, kicking about in excitement and splashing water all over the Doctor’s face. Well, he was asking for it, sitting fully-dressed by the swimming pool.

          “Knowing Jack, it’ll probably be something obscene that he picked up on Alpha Centauri,” said Rose, smirking.

          “No, it’s completely innocent, I swear!” he shouted.

          “Oh please, I’ve met thousand-year-old Time Ladies skilled in every art of seduction, who are more innocent than you,” said Ten.

          Jack merely flashed a grin. _Good old Jack, still trying to get in everyone’s knickers._

          They sat around in a circle, fingers held up in all manner of numbers, a smile pile of clothing discarded in a corner of the room. The game was simple. Hold up ten fingers, go round the circle, and name something you’ve never done. If someone else has done it, they put down a finger, and take a drink. The first one to put down all ten fingers first must remove an item of clothing. That last bit was Jack’s idea and it had, of course, backfired on him. Jack was on his fourth round, sprawled out in just his socks. He had removed his undercrackers first, and then everything else. Perhaps their drinks were hitting them a little too hard, but no one in the circle was surprised to find that his knickers were bright orange, and that they held a candid photo of Ianto’s face printed across his manly bits.

          Amy swayed on the spot, giggling and hiccupping, three fingers held up on one hand, a fresh strawberry mojito in the other. She still had on most of her clothing, her bare legs stretched out in front of her.

          “Amy, it’s your go,” Jack said, making very little effort to cover himself up. Everyone had their eyes averted as best as they could manage, River being the exception.

          “Alright,” she said, “I’ve never…had this much to drink,” she slurred, dropping into the Doctor’s side and laughing, nearly spilling her mojito all over his lap. He placed his arm around her and took the glass out of her hand. She didn’t object, but merely nuzzled into his neck, curling up around him. He shot a quick glance at Rose, but she was too busy nibbling on Ten’s earlobe, while he giggled and tickled her. He sighed heavily and smiled, leaning into Amy and stroking her back as she fell asleep.

          “Well, that is the end of Amy for this evening,” he chuckled and then added, “it’s my turn now, yes? Huh. Well, never have I ever…slept with River,” he said, laughing. He noted that Jack quietly put down one of his fingers. River, having already “lost” her trousers, sat there in only a bra and knickers, arms perched over her knees. She looked him once over, smiling wickedly and raising her eyebrows suggestively.

          “No, hang on. River, have we?” he asked, afraid of the answer.

          “Spoilers,” she trilled, downing the last bit of her champagne.

            “No, really. You can’t at least let on about that? Just tell me, have we or have we not slept together? I like to keep track,” he said, frowning.

            “Well, Doctor, time _can_ be rewritten. We can change that right now if you’d like,” She said, winking. He gulped audibly, and Amy stirred at his side.

            “Keep track…how many people have you slept with?” she asked sleepily.

            “Oh, let’s not go there…really, it’s not a lot,” he mumbled. Everyone was staring at him with curious expressions.

            “I am nine-hundred and seven. Yes, I’ve had sex, alright?” he shouted back at them.

            Amy and Rose both giggled.

            “ _I’ve_ never slept with the Doctor.” Jack pouted and looked back and forth between the two Doctors, expectantly.

            “Absolutely not,” Ten said pointedly.

            “I wasn’t suggesting anything, just stating a fact,” Jack said in mock innocence.

            “Oh please, Jack, we all know you’ve been trying to get into his trousers for years,” said Rose, rolling her eyes and laughing.

            “Well, it’s not surprising. Look at us,” the Doctor motioned back and forth between himself and the human Doctor, chuckling.

            “He’d shag himself if he had the chance…oh, look at that, now he does,” River said.

            “Well, I’ve never fucked myself before, though it has, on several occasions, been suggested to me,” said Ten, chortling and adjusting his tie, which, with the exception of his undercrackers and socks, was the only thing he still had on.

             “What _is_ it with you two and your neckwear?” Amy asked.

             “Bow ties are cool,” the Doctor said as he moved to adjust his, too. Unlike Ten, he still had on his trousers, though he’d lost everything else early on in the game. Amy traced circles along his arms and bare chest, and he had to fight to keep a straight face. He cleared his throat and looked expectantly at River.

            “Your go.”

            “Right, well…I’ve never…kissed Amy. At least, not in this time stream,” she smirked. The Doctor shook his head rather violently.

            “No, no, much too weird. Can’t have that happen,” he said, dismissing the notion before River even had the chance to suggest it. With this much alcohol in her system, Amy might be game for anything.

            “Like you haven’t thought about it,” Amy mumbled, eyes still closed, against his shoulder, before she drifted back to sleep. The Doctor’s cheeks flushed pink.

            “You have, haven’t you? That explains the glassy look in your eyes whenever you’ve seen us together,” River said, and then added, “It’s not because of me, though, is it? It’s Amy.”

            “You really like her, don’t you? I’d be able to tell, after all, _being_ you,” Ten smirked.

            “Fit little thing, isn’t she? Not bad to look at, really,” Jack mused.

            “Don’t talk about her like that,” the Doctor snapped.

            “You love her, don’t you?” Rose asked softly. She didn’t seem sad, merely curious. The Doctor nudged the sleeping ginger in his arms, brushing the hair out of her face, and glanced at the rest of the group, who all seemed to be waiting expectantly for him to confirm their suspicions. Not one of them expected the next turn of events.

            “This is _not_ Scotland Yard. We’ve definitely taken a wrong turn. I told you not to trust that one-eyed witch,” a distance voice made all of their heads turn toward the entryway, where two complete strangers had just rounded the corner. They appeared to be arguing. The one, slightly stocky and blond, seemed thoroughly frustrated with his companion, pawing after him like a lost retriever. His partner strode through the room confidently and with a sense of concentrated ease, a crease set in his forehead. He was quite tall, almost as tall as the Doctor, with disheveled, curly black hair and dressed modestly in a black, woolen overcoat.

            “I know perfectly well where we are, John,” he said, thoroughly annoyed, brushing his thick scarf over his shoulder.

            “Where are we, then?” the man called John shot back.

            “Lost,” he said simply.

            “Oh, well that’s just love—“ John stopped short, suddenly spotting the inebriated, half-dressed crowd gathered around the swimming pool.

            “Oh, hello,” John said nervously, giving a small wave.

            “Who the…how did… _who are you_?” The Doctor blurted out. Completely unnoticed by the rest of the group, Jack had crossed the room in one swift stride, one hand covering his private bits, the other stretched out in welcome to the two newcomers.

            “Hello, gentlemen. I’m Captain—“ he started, flashing a cheeky grin.

            “Shut it!” the Doctor, Ten, Rose, and Amy all said at once. Jack rolled his eyes.

            “You’re…naked,” John said, reluctantly taking Jack’s hand. He leaned over to his companion and whispered, “Sherlock, why is this man naked?”

            “Quite right, Watson. Excellent observation,” Sherlock merely responded. He then proceeded to walk a perimeter around Jack, a perfect impersonation of the Doctor. At least he didn’t have a sonic.

          “Are you attempting to seduce me, sir? Because I must first inform you that I am married to my work, and very selective when it comes to my sexual companions,” Sherlock assessed. Watson looked rather hurt.

          “How can you assume he only wants you? Could be me he’s after. Like you’d know anything about seduction,” Watson chuckled and rolled his eyes. Sherlock turned on the spot to face him, bright blue eyes burning into Watson’s.

          “John, you know very well that I prefer a bit more subtlety in _my_ seduction,” he said, giving John the once-over and winking. He blushed bright red the instant the words left Sherlock’s lips. The room went silent for a moment, John and Sherlock locked in an awkward staring match, eyes communicating something none of them could understand. After several moments of watching the oncoming catastrophe, the Doctor jumped up and ran toward them, slipping slightly on the slick, aluminum floor.

          “You two are…lost, yes? Where do you come from?” he asked, circling them.

          “London, sir. And you?” Watson asked quietly, face still slightly flushed.

          “Ah, that’s…quite a bit away. Allow me to show you the main console. I haven’t the slightest clue how you ended up here, but then, my TARDIS has a mind of her own, I’m afraid. We’re currently stuck in the Time Vortex, but I should be able to maneuver us out of it, and get you both back home. I’ll need the address, though, London’s quite a bit city.”

          “221 B Baker Street,” Sherlock said.

          “TARDIS. Time Vortex. What exactly does all of that mean?” Dr. Watson asked.

          “Oh, shut up, never mind. Come along,” the Doctor said. Jack lifted a finger in protest, while River rushed over, having located the whereabouts of her lost trousers, and buttoning up her shirt.

          “Doctor, really, we’d be happy to show them around,” Jack said.

          “Plus, I know how to fly the TARDIS, remember? Just like you taught me. I’ll persuade her to take us out of the Time Vortex. She likes me better, anyway,” River smirked.

          “No, no, no. I’m not letting either of you out of my sight,” the Doctor protested.

          “Doctor, do you really want Jack in the same room with Amy in her present state?”

          The Doctor paused, noting the smug expression on River’s face, and was sure this was some kind of a ploy to confuse him just so she could take off with three men she’d only just met. Sighing heavily, he nodded, making a mental note to disinfect every surface of the console once everyone left.

          “Try not to break anything, will you?” he called after them, as they rushed down the corridor excitedly. Sherlock looking utterly bored, Watson looking slightly frightened.

          The Doctor sighed, shook his head half in amusement, half in anxiety, and turned back toward the remaining three occupants. Rose and Ten were cuddled up alongside the pool a great distance away, their legs kicking idly in the water. Her head rested against his shoulder as he animatedly told her a story. He couldn’t help but smile fondly, with the knowledge that he was responsible for their happiness. Amy sat curled up in the same spot where he’d left her. His smile brightened immensely, and he rushed over to her.

          “Hello, you. How do you feel?” he asked.

          “Coming down. Did I say anything stupid?” she asked, looking sheepish.

          “Not really, though I did find out quite a few new things about you,” he said.

          “Oh no. What have I said?” she asked, her eyes growing wide.

          “Well, for one, you can’t handle your liquor. You didn’t get sick or anything, you’re just very giggly…and…handsy,” he added, flexing his fingers for emphasis.

          “Oh. Right. Sorry,” she said, looking up at him. His eyes held a strange mix of reluctance and longing. Amy’s eyes followed the curves of his face, leading down his neck, and settled for a moment on the little red bowtie that perched neatly against his throat. He stood there in nothing but his bowtie and trousers, wiggling his toes against the smooth ground. She admired the subtle curves of his pale, gangly chest, the way that his stomach muscles clenched when he spoke. She couldn’t help but find him sensationally adorable. Her eyes trailed along his torso, and lingered on the line between his skin and his trousers, hipbones jutted out and just barely visible. Pink flushed her cheeks, and she looked away quickly, embarrassed. And though she fought to keep a straight face, a smile escaped onto her lips.

          “What are you smirking at, Pond?” he asked, trying to sound annoyed.

          “Nothing, no, really, I’m not…I’ve just never seen you like this,” she said.

          “Like what? I’m…I’m still me,” he said, turning in circles.

          “I’ve never seen so much of you,” she amended.

          “Oh,” he realized, blushing slightly and attempting to cover up his chest with his arms.

          “Yes, well, I lost quite a few rounds.”

          “Yet you managed to keep on the bowtie. If you’d have lost one more round, I’ll bet you’d have sacrificed the trousers first. Can you imagine you in nothing but a bowtie? You would’ve looked ridiculous,” she said, chuckling softly. In an instant, the Doctor had pounced on his companion, tickling every inch of her that his hands could find, sending her into a fit of giggles. He’d had enough practice by now, and knew every single ticklish spot on her body.

            “I would _not_ look ridiculous. Bowties are _cool_ ,” he said, laughing along with her. He stopped tickling and she stopped fidgeting, both of them out of breath and smiling. The two of them grew silent as they realized where they’d ended up: Amy pinned to the floor, underneath him, her legs between his and her hands clinging to his bare shoulders, red nails nearly digging into his skin. Her expression was unmistakable. She liked this. She liked him exactly where he was. And he wasn’t moving for anything.

            “Have you imagined me in nothing but a bowtie?” he asked. She merely narrowed her eyes, and shook her head, biting her lip and trying not to smile.

            “You have, haven’t you?” He was finding it increasingly difficult not to smile, and feeling slightly lightheaded, as his blood supply couldn’t decide where it wanted to remain. Half of it flushed to his cheeks, and slowly seeped into the length of his neck. Amy pushed him up with her fingertips and he rose unwillingly. She shook her head and gave him a light smack against his arm when they were both sitting upright. He turned to face her, a smirk pulling his lips into a full-on grin.

          “Amelia Pond, you’re evading my question. Has your heartbeat increased? You _have_ thought of me with nothing but a bowtie on, then. Shall I make a song of it and sing it round the TARDIS? Amy’s thought of me with nothing—“

          “Shut it, Raggedy Man,” she said, quieting him up quite decently as she pressed her lips roughly to his. She took his lower lip into her mouth, pulling lightly, trailing her tongue along the inside of his mouth. He responded immediately, grabbing her by her waist and nearly throwing her back down against the floor. She laughed as he did so, grabbing his face and bringing it back down to hers, pouring their friendship, their trust, and all of her misguided hurt and tension into that kiss. _All this time they’d spent pretending._ He gave in fully, stumbling awkwardly above her, and kissed her in return, allowing the part of himself that had kept his affection for Amy a secret to open up completely.

          She’d unbuttoned his trousers in mere seconds and tossed them to the side, while he troubled with the clasp of her bra and nearly ripped her ruffled skirt in half in an attempt to pull it off. She laughed at him for that, but her giggles were muffled by the return of his lips against hers, smiling brilliantly, his hearts hammering in his chest as he moved above her. Amelia. His Amelia.

          Her nails slid the length of his back, leaving marks against his skin and pulling him closer to her bare chest, skin on skin, feeling the vibrations of his hearts beating against hers. She nuzzled her face into his neck, lips searching his skin, placing soft kisses along the side of his neck, accompanied with the rough graze of her teeth, branding him with little pink marks that wouldn’t leave him for days. She slipped her tongue underneath the bowtie at the base of his throat, pushing him wildly over the edge, the final release overcoming them both.

          He closed his eyes and remained right where he was, his head slumped lazily against her chest, a little burst of giggles radiating throughout his body, shaking them both. When he regained composure, he placed his arms around her waist and held onto her, moving impossibly closer to her, placing affectionate kisses along the bridge of her nose, both sides of her neck, and all along her chest. She smiled brightly, and clung onto him. For ages, they lay there on the smooth aluminum floor, hands grasped in one another’s, fingers intertwined. The colorful lights continued to dance up above them, tangling into one another, but they took no notice, content only in one another’s eyes. The world around them disappeared, and in that moment, they were the only ones in existence.


End file.
